


For Future Consideration

by onetiredboy



Series: slowly this time, naturally this time [1]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But also in love, But in love, M/M, Peter is hurting, Season 3, Season 3 Spoilers, i think i put these exact tags on another one of my fics lol, juno steel is sad, man in glass spoilers, they get locked in a room together and forced to talk about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-28 05:37:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21131531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onetiredboy/pseuds/onetiredboy
Summary: SPOILERS FOR S3 (Name change: previously For Consideration Immediately but this title is more satisfying)My place here on the ship has been jeopardised: performance below standard; a heist almost entirely bungled. This last case is perhaps the worst I’ve done on any thievery in my entire life, and all because of—“Juno Steel, this goes for you too!”Him.A.K.A: Buddy Aurinko gets tired of her family's infighting, and forces them to kiss and make up. Figuratively, of course.





	1. the challenge

**Author's Note:**

> SO HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE, HUH?
> 
> Set an indeterminate time into the future.

“Quite frankly, Ransom, this level of performance is far below the standard I had come to expect from—”

I am not listening to Buddy Aurinko. I have already poured over the details of the contents of her speech in my head and have no need to relive the experience in real time. My place here on the ship has been jeopardised: performance below standard; a heist almost entirely bungled. This last case is perhaps the worst I’ve done on any thievery in my entire life, and all because of—

“Juno Steel, this goes for you too!”

_Him. _

Juno Steel has made it the primary goal of his existence to get in my way. Consistently, his inability to hold focus on a job for more than five minutes without whining, snapping, or making inane and incredibly unfunny remarks has jeopardised the missions we’ve been set on together (and yet, and _yet_, Miss _Aurinko _refuses to separate us). This Juno Steel puts his coffee down on the table when Buddy calls him out, “Me? Oh, no. Oh, no, no no. _I _wasn’t the one being _so goddamn _petty that—”

I laugh and it sounds more like a choke, “Petty! _Petty! _Detective Steel, _your_ immaturity almost singlehandedly—”

“Jesus Christ, Ransom, you think you’re _so _high and mighty. You literally_ tripped me over _and made me drop the _actual ancient artefact _that we were sent to burgle, alerted all the guards, and—”

“Enough! Behave, the two of you!”

Buddy slams her hands down on the table and Juno falls silent. He glances at me for a moment, reluctantly, like a child fake-apologising to a classmate they punched on the playground before the teacher finds out. I expect it is not the first, nor the hundredth time that Juno has given somebody that look. I avoid making eye-contact with him.

After a moment of silence, I clear my throat carefully, “I apologise for the detective’s behaviour, Miss Aurinko—”

“Peter Ransom, in this moment you have all the maturity of a six year old.”

I stare at her, open mouth and wide eyes. Juno snorts and I whip around to glare at him.

“If you want to keep your position here on my ship, Mr. Ransom,” Buddy rushes in before I can say any of the seven different things I have on my mind right now to say to _Juno Steel, _“I suggest you think very carefully about your next words.”

I fall silent. I count each of the seven unique insults I had planned in my head. I fold them up and place them away. Filed under: For Future Consideration. Then I clear my throat, straighten my posture, “I apologise. I let my emotions get the best of me. It won’t happen again.”

“That would be real assuring, doll, if you didn’t let your _emotions _get the hold of you about once every ten minutes.”

It’s a test: I maintain my composure, responding to Buddy’s strong gaze with little more than a nod of acknowledgement, “I understand.”

She stares at me for a moment longer. Then, satisfied, she turns to Juno, “And you, Steel?”

“Hey,” Juno puts his hands up, “_I__’m _not the one with the problem here—”

“Juno.”

Juno rolls his eye so hard it looks like it might pop right out of his head. He leans his elbows on the kitchen counter, “Yeah, Mom, whatever.”

_Mom. _Once again, Juno excels in his ability to show a general lack of respect to everybody aboard this ship. He is slouching, the stained trenchcoat that should’ve been burnt when he arrived here hanging open either side of him. His hair is messy, strands poking off of it everywhere. He is in the same turtleneck I’ve seen him in for the past three days like the word ‘shower’ means absolutely nothing to him, has chipped nail polish like the word ‘dignity’ means nothing to him, and what surprises me about it the most is that I could have _ever _looked at him and thought—

I stop this line of thought before it goes to a place I have visited far too much and do not care to visit again. I look away from Juno Steel. I file these things away For Future Consideration.

Peter Ransom is a man who does not get _hung up_. Peter Ransom is a man who tailors his emotional state with laser precision, even when a certain short, very loud, and idiotic ex— ex detective — jumps on the metaphorical arm holding the laser cutter and sends it spiralling haywire. Juno Steel has taken a lot from me. The next will not be this job.

“I told the two of you when you arrived aboard this ship that I would be expecting our crew to work together as a family,” Captain Aurinko’s voice is smooth and calm. “I know— or, I have heard— that you both can work exceptionally well together under duress. I choose to believe that is true, because I put my trust in you.”

“I trust you too, Buddy,” Juno pipes up, completely unnecessarily.

I don’t catch the next few words of whatever Captain Aurinko says. I barely maintain control of my sight.

“…quite clear,” Buddy is saying when I can breathe evenly next. “And whatever history the two of you have— don’t interrupt, Juno, dear, I am _really _getting tired of you denying what may as well be written across your face—It has, unfortunately, become clear to me that if this behaviour is to continue, I can no longer afford to have either you in my employ.”

“_What?!__” _Juno snarls, “You can’t fire me—”

“Well, if you would like to spend the next six months of your life as a part of this family and _not _grounded into your quarters, Juno Steel, I suggest you work _very _hard at getting along with Mr. Ransom again,” Buddy talks evenly over him. “Whatever it is the two of you need to talk about, I suggest the both of you grow up and do it.”

“If you think I _haven__’t _tried talking about it…” Juno’s sentence descends into mumbling as he speaks, and he risks a glance at me. I ignore it.

I need this job. Badly. I feel my stomach tighten. Not a single iteration of the man I am at any one time enjoys being backed into a corner. Especially a corner as… unpleasant as this.

Buddy sighs. She turns to the cupboard behind us and opens it, pulling out a glass. “Do you both agree to my conditions?”

Juno groans, “Long as you take the knives off him first. Don’t really fancy myself in the mood for a stabbing.”

I can’t help myself. My teeth grit and I look down at my painted (and very much not chipped, thank you very much) nails, “Well, maybe if you lost some of that attitude…”

“Oh my _God_, Ransom, you _gave _me this attitude! I _tried _being nice to you and you—!”

“Yes, yes. This is good,” Buddy pours herself a scotch, “But I’d rather we not have an all-out argument in our family room, okay? Both of you leave all your weapons here. Then follow me.”

Buddy stands up from the bench. She is in a long red dress similar to one I once owned, her hair a red-orange lightning storm around her thunder-scarred face. She smiles, and the tempest of her face is immediately tamed. One thing I will always respect about Captain Aurinko is her class. “Oh, and,” she adds, hanging around the doorframe, “Ransom.”

“Yes, Captain Aurinko?”

“Be a darling and return the jewellery you stole from my pocket this morning to my quarters. I’ve let Vespa know ahead of time that if it’s not returned by this evening she has my full permission to gut you. And believe you me, Mr. Ransom, she seemed _quite _delighted at the opportunity. I think my dear wife has been holding on to that particular wish for a _very _long time.”

Then she is gone.

There’s silence for a moment; the tick of the computer’s clock.

“Nice one,” Juno says.

“I don’t need this from you,” I spit at him. I pull my knife from its sheath and place it down on the kitchen counter. Then I pull another from a sheath up my sleeve, and another from the sheath in my shoe. Juno watches me as I do it, his eye following the arc of my arm as I pull my weapons from different places on my body. I bristle.

“This isn’t a peep show, _detective._”

“Not unless you’re giving me a peep of what my own death is going to look like,” Juno agrees. He turns away, sighing heavily, and pulls the one blaster out of his pocket, placing it beside my knives. I want to tell him to put it on the other side of the bench. I don’t.

“If it helps,” Juno says, “This isn’t how I wanted our talk to go, either.”

His voice is… despondent. I haven’t heard that from him in a while — not since he joined this ship. He seemed to be on some kind of good streak originally, salvaged out from the wreckage of Juno Steel’s usual mental state, which only varies between the worlds of disorganised at best and a raw force of destruction at worst. But over time, he has grown… more distant. Calmed. He has stopped trying to talk to me every second he gets, stopped staring at me like he still thinks I might drop whatever act he thinks I’m putting on, like he just wants me to sweep in on a beam of starlight and…

The point is that he has given up. And I do not feel guilt for whatever part of that may be my doing — I do not feel hurt that Juno has _finally _moved on. I do _not _think about the hope I saw in his eyes when he first arrived here. I—

I file it away. For Future Consideration.

“Where do you think Buddy’s got to…?” Juno hesitates at the doorway, and then wanders out of the room.

I have a moment to myself. This job cannot continue without reaching some form of agreement with Juno Steel. This is… an almost impossible challenge. Peter Ransom is a man of fact, of guideline, of justly directed rage and anger. He is a man who simply _cannot _be expected to make room for somebody so _emotional_, so _sentimental_, so—so—

So whatever. There is one other thing that Peter Ransom is, and that is a professional. I need this job. I cannot lose this job. And so, if that means folding away my thoughts so tightly that they need not be visible even to myself, then I will do exactly that. I can fake my way into an agreement with Juno Steel. I can settle this idiocy once and for all, finally sever the ties between the two of us so that we may both work _alone _in comfort. That, after all, is what I want.

No. It isn’t what I want. Juno Steel showed me, over a year ago, the false security in having what you _want_. This is not what I want. This is what I need. One can live a perfectly fulfilling life if only they listen to what they _need._

I follow Juno out of the kitchen. He is ahead of me, down the hallway into the part of the ship I recognise as a lounge. It has Rita’s technological equipment covering almost every available surface, screens she has hacked to project five different streams at once. She has been teaching Jet how to do the same with his comms, by the look of the large black machine taken to pieces to one side of the room.

Captain Aurinko stands at the doorway to the room. She waits until we are both inside it, sitting on either end of the lounge, and then she smiles.

“Now, lady and gentleman,” she draws herself to her full height, something close to mischief glinting for just a second in her eye before it returns to perfect, calmly-executed business, “I love you dearly, as though you are my own children. And so, in order to settle this argument I have opted for a method that my mother used on me and my siblings _every single time _we had a disagreement. That is to say: I am locking you two in this room together, and you will leave it only when you have — I feel obliged to clarify that I mean this metaphorically before Juno chokes on his own spit again — kissed and made up.”

_“What?!”_

Juno and I shout it at the same time. We make for the door at the same time, but Buddy Aurinko only smiles, and the door to the room is locked shut before we even get there. I turn away from the door and growl. Juno thumps on it.

“Are you kidding me? He’s going to _kill _me in here! I’m going to be dead!” There’s no response. He hits the door one more time, and then kicks it, “Hope you didn’t need any more thieving skills from the former Juno Steel, P.I, because I’m not even going to make it to my tenth goddamn minute alone in here with— _him!_”

“Mature,” I sigh. I walk across to the other side of the room and lean against the cool metal of the ship. I look out of the viewing port into the vast stretch of blackness around us, a few asteroids distantly visible; the straggling edges of a belt. I don’t look at Juno, but I hear him clear aside Rita’s equipment and sit down on the couch with a sigh.

“So,” he says, “Are you going to talk first? Or am I?”

His voice infuriates me, all quiet and calm like he really believes he can _fix _this. I can’t help but be angry that he is doing so well. So… “Say whatever you’d like,” I snarl at him.

In retrospect, I really should have let myself speak first.


	2. Chapter 2

If I had let myself speak first, I could have split the strings attached right then. A few sharply curated sentences and it would have been clear to Juno Steel that whatever delusional future I had believed in between us could not possibly have ever existed. Instead, I tightened my lips and glared out of the viewport as I heard Juno let out a long sigh.

“Well, alright. Um. But you’ve got to agree to listen this time, okay?”

“It’s rather hard not to, detective, you do a very good job at forcing everybody’s attention on you,” I mutter. I do not say: _nobody can look away when you speak, especially not me. _

He groans, “Okay, and let’s start there— I get you’re angry, Ransom, you’ve made that well and truly clear. But d’you think you could refrain from insulting me for at _least _five minutes so that I can speak? This is going to be humiliating enough already.”

_Stop making it so easy, then, _I want to say. I do not. I fold my arms over my chest and look at him. I push off the wall with my hip and sit down on the couch next to him, brushing the crinkles out of my pants, “Let me guess, detective: you’re sorry. You’ve thought about it a lot. You were just confused in the head, scared— you didn’t mean it, you’ve regretted it ever since— is that about right?”

“More or less,” Juno says, risking a small grin at me. Then it drops from his face and he looks down at his fingers, “Except for the bit about regretting it.”

I stare at him, perfectly still. I have nothing to say to that. I feel as though I’ve been kicked, hard. Trust Juno Steel to make sure he gets the last laugh, I suppose.

“The person I was back in M—in that tomb…” Juno sighs, “That Juno Steel didn’t deserve you.”

I try to find words, but I’m still recovering. He’s got my attention, and I’m helpless to do anything but listen. His gaze flickers to my face, frowning softly.

“Or maybe he did,” Juno continues, “Maybe you would’ve been just what he needed and I wouldn’t have had to go through _everything _I’ve been through in the last year. But even so, he wouldn’t have believed it anyway. Not for a long time, and—” he laughs, “I can’t believe I’m going to say it, but it wasn’t you. It was me.”

“Yes, well. I came to that conclusion a while ago,” I say, scathingly.

He looks hurt, but he just… nods, “Yeah, I— I guess it was pretty obvious. To most people, it turns out. Just not for me.”

There’s silence for a moment. I feel anger start to boil in the pit of my stomach: I refuse to believe that Juno Steel is making _me _feel like apologising. _Me. _After everything he’s done. But that’s some people for you: refuse to accept responsibility for the consequences of their actions, have to make themselves the victim of everything.

“I was an asshole,” Juno says, “I didn’t give enough time to the people who cared about me, and I didn’t give enough time to looking after myself, and I was a shitty person, and it’s alright to admit that. I’m not looking for sympathy or to be forgiven. I just want you to know that I haven’t given up. For once in my life, I haven’t given up. I want to make things better, starting—starting with me, and Rita, and… and you.”

“What makes you think you can?” I ask him. Immediately after the words leave my mouth, I feel something like pain in my chest. Something isn’t right with that: I’m not acting any differently than I need to if the straggling loose ends of this relationship are to be cut as soon as possible and I have already made it perfectly clear that all one needs to do to be content in life is to follow what they need.

And I am content. I am content. Aren’t I?

“I don’t know,” Juno says. “It’s been years since I tried this—getting better, and maybe I’ll fail. But…” He glances up at me and his eye shines with tears and there’s that pain again, “There was this pretty guy once who told me that sometimes it’s not about knowing, it’s about… trusting. It was in a different context, I guess, but… the point is: I don’t know. I don’t know if I can fix things between us, I don’t even know if you _want _things to be fixed. But I trust that I can. I trust that you do. Even if that makes me an idiot.”

Of course I _want _things to be fixed. I don’t tell him that: giving it words gives it control, gives it permission to take residence in my mind and his, gives him false hope. These are things I tell myself to keep my mouth shut and my face blank. I watch the corner of his mouth tremble and he looks away from me. His shoulders draw in a little closer.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” he mutters. “Maybe some things can’t be fixed.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you left,” I say, and even I feel cruel. It’s a protective mechanism, but the point of it is to make it clear to myself that I do not feel anything for Juno Steel. The point of it is not for me to watch his shoulders shake and listen to his wavering breath and feel like I’ve been split in two.

Peter Ransom does not feel pity. Peter Ransom does not feel sympathy. Peter Ransom does not cry.

“I fucked up, Nureyev,” Juno says.

I blink. Tears splash against my cheeks.

Peter Ransom does not cry.

Peter Nureyev, on the other hand…

_(Peter Nureyev cried in a hotel room in Hyperion city, threw a heel and smashed a mirror before leaving through the fire escape (and with such an embarrassing display of emotion, who could really blame me for packing him neatly away until he calmed himself down?))_

“Oh,” I mutter out loud, putting a hand to my face to wipe away the tears. Like some form of lifted curse, now that I know that it’s there the sad feeling takes up all the room under my ribs. Peter Nureyev was always a fragile little thing, on the inside. It was one of the many reasons Ransom never liked him much. I am so preoccupied with my little crisis that I almost entirely miss out on what Juno is saying.

“…being so upset and cold all the time hurts more than the rest of it,” Juno’s shoulder’s shake and he sobs, “I don’t care about the rest,” he manages, “The shit I went through, the— the missing you all the time, I— I was so caught up in my own bullshit I thought I’d save you from hurting if I left, but all I did was—”

He can’t speak for a while. He’s an ugly crier; large, heaving sobs and wet, ragged breaths. I watch him with a conflicted, morbid curiosity, cataloguing the way his face moves. I’ve never seen him cry like this, “I never wanted to hurt you like _this_. Nureyev, I—”

“Don’t call me that,” my own voice is so rough it surprises me. It feels like I slit my tongue on the words; I spit them out like broken glass.

“Right,” Juno says, quickly, “Right, N—Ransom. I’m sorry.”

I don’t want him to call me that either. I don’t know what I want. I don’t quite know who I am. I put my head in my hands. I’ve always treated my mind like an aquarium; watched the thoughts inside swimming from behind a protective barrier, pointing out the ones that catch my eye and finding out their names. Now I feel like I’m inside the water, and I am drowning.

Juno breathes in long and I know he’s going to try to talk again. I simultaneously want to hear what he has to say for himself and want to do anything to get him to be quiet.

“I—fuck, I had it planned so eloquently in my head. What I was going to say to you. About the growing I’ve done, about what I’ve learned about life and caring for yourself and _moving on_. But now I feel like I’ve said nothing, just— just cried,” he laughs with a watery voice and I wonder if he’s drowning too.

“I get it,” he says, “I get how mad you are, and maybe once I would’ve said that I deserve it— but I don’t. And you don’t either. You don’t deserve to be feeling angry, feeling like I never _felt _anything for you, because goddamnit, I _did_. I haven’t felt for someone like I felt for you since—” he cuts himself off. Breathes deeply, “Since… a long time. Since a long, long time, N—Ransom.”

“Nureyev.”

He looks up at me like I just saved his world. I regret it immediately. “Ransom,” I correct myself again. I can feel my breathing get louder, “I—I…”

“Peter,” Juno says.

_(My voice, breathless: _ _‘You’re beautiful like this, beautiful — you know that, Juno?’_

_His eye settling shut, his head pushing back as his mouth opened, _ _‘Peter…’ _

_My heart stopping for a moment, shuddering with an intimacy I had long forgotten how to feel. I kissed my name off of his lips and he trembled underneath me.)_

I don’t know what it is about that, whether it’s the memory or whether it’s the stability of finding a way to allow myself a moment in which I am not struggling to decide which _Peter _I am right now, but for a second, I’m not drowning. I float among my thoughts and the calm it gives me allows me to recenter, refocus, place myself on the other side of the glass again. I close my eyes and watch my thoughts swimming in my head, and then I pick one out. “Is it my turn to talk, yet?” I ask.

Juno sniffles, laughs, “You better, before I get too fuckin’ incoherent.”

I draw myself back and breathe in. Out of the corner of my eye I see Juno wipe away his tears and I’m reminded that my own are drying on my face. I wipe them quickly away with my fingers. I breathe out. Formulaic; mathematic; strategised. “I need this job,” I tell him. “I… got myself into some trouble, and… it doesn’t matter, but I need… security. For the moment. No more flowing with the breeze. But,” I watch him carefully as I speak, “I must also keep myself focused. In order for this to go well, I need to be professional.”

“No getting back together,” Juno cuts to the chase, nodding. “I know, that’s… not what I was hoping. Are you okay?”

“What?”

“You said you got into some trouble,” Juno says. He leans into me, frowning, his eyes intense, “Are you safe, Peter? Nobody found out your name, right?”

I feel old defensiveness creep into me, “It’s nothing that need concern you, Juno, the more people that know about my situation, the more likely it is that things could go wrong. I’m perfectly capable of handling my—”

“I know that,” Juno waves me off, “I asked if you’re safe.”

He surprises me so much that I don’t answer for a moment. I blink at him, somewhat suspicious. “Currently, yes.”

“Okay,” Juno says, “I know you’ll tell me if that changes. I trust you.”

He smiles at me: that dangerous, telling smile again, that galaxy’s-best smile again, his teeth poking out. It’s shaky from disuse, but it’s genuine, hopeful. I have seen a lot of that smile recently, but it has not been directed at me for… a while longer than that.

He catches me looking and the smile twitches a bit, falls slightly to be less confident, more… wistful, his mouth opening a little way. You can read exactly what he is thinking in a smile like that, and right now…

Juno seems to find himself, because he clears his throat and that smile disappears. I flicker my gaze away, a little bit of old panic stirring within me again. I am not quite sure what I would have done if he kept looking at me like that. I cannot afford to go through the Juno Steel merry-go-round again. Not with everything riding on my shoulders.

Juno slouches forward to put his elbows on his knees and sighs. His stained trenchcoat hangs open around him. I let my eyes follow his messy hair, the places where a beard is trying to poke through, the day-old lipstick and the golden earring in his ear, still there from the heist we did oh-so long ago. Everything about him should, in its own right, be distasteful; hideous, even, but, all thrown together…

It’s the smile of somebody who hasn’t given up. It’s the smile of somebody who is just beginning a brave new future. That’s what it is.

I used to smile like that, once.

“_Okay_,” Juno groans, pulling me out of my introspection, standing up from the couch. He turns towards me and holds his arms out, “Hug it out?”

I laugh at him, disbelieving, “Are you quite serious, detective?”

“Aw, come on, tough guy is supposed to be my role to play.”

I resent that – I’ve never tried to come across as _tough_. I stand up from the couch and brush down my pants. The word _tough _brings to mind such… uncouth connotations. What I’ve tried to present myself as is a more elegant form of that. Not tough, but… I think of myself as steeled.

…Bad choice of word.

“I’d prefer this to happen _before _my arms fall off, if it’s all the same to you,” Juno waggles his fingers like a child reaching for a comfort blanket, his face all raised-eyebrow and Juno-brand dry sarcasm.

“I never thought of you as the hugging type,” I tell him, stalling just to let him know that that look isn’t going to work on me.

“Never used to be,” Juno shrugs a shoulder and finally lowers his arms. “Used to avoid them at all costs. Thought it was part of my whole… not needing anybody schtick. But I’m learning. Honestly, I think deep down some part of me was worried if I got hugged properly once I’d realise how much I missed it. Like it’d make me want to get better, God forbid.”

I am beginning to realise that I have never met this person before.

“Alright then,” I say, sighing. I hold my arms out, “Come here. But just this once.”

It’s not the brave new future I’d believed in once upon a time. But it is still _a _brave new future. And while it may not be in the place I expected it to be, while it may not be with the person I had expected it to be with a year ago, while it may have me in a situation where I am going to make some decisions I will no-doubt regret, it’s still a future I want to explore.

With me in my heels and him only in his socks, he only makes it to my chest, and I can tell he’s not quite used to hugging by the awkward angle we end up being stuck in. I roll my eyes to myself, glad we’ve never committed a heist on one of the many planets where hugging is a customary way to say hello, and try and make the best of it.

He’s warm.

It’s… not unpleasant, all things considered.

Then he squeezes me and once again I’m reminded of how unused Juno Steel is to hugs because there’s enough strength in it to punch the air out of my lungs with a rather undignified ‘oof’.

He pulls back from me while I recover, looking at me with bright eyes filled with mischief and facetiousness, “Bet you ten creds Buddy’s standing outside listening in.”

I laugh. He laughs too, his face lighting up with it. It’s the first time I’ve seen him laugh like that. I want to kiss him senseless.

I linger on that for a moment, as Juno turns from me and starts yelling down the door again, trying to get Captain Aurinko’s attention. It doesn’t frighten me as much as it should, which should be frightening in itself, and yet... Well. That doesn’t matter now. I’m still on track for my goal, and with this out of the way at least I don’t have to worry about my place on the ship being threatened. So for now, that thought, that image of Juno smiling — I pack it up and fold it into my mind. For future consideration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this story, please leave kudos and comments to let me knowwww!!! and thank you to @windmillcrusader who beta'd my fic; trust me when i say it wouldn't be half as good without them!!

**Author's Note:**

> comment if you enjoyed. im gay. this episode said trans rights so hard. idk what else to say


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